


It Wasn't a Dream

by Fervent_dreamer



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Citadel DLC, Don't take everything at face value, Feels, Gen, Hangover, Introspection, Prothean Beacon, Realization, Renegade Shepard (Mass Effect)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 00:59:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12048009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fervent_dreamer/pseuds/Fervent_dreamer
Summary: Now, Shepard never gave a lot of thought to the beacon from Eden Prime, and what exactly it did to her. There was Chakwa's initial explanation that Shepard had glazed a little on. Then there were those couple of weeks Liara had wanted to dissect her brain. Other than the occasional pieces of ancient tech, or being shoved to the front line if there was even a whiff of eau de Reaper or Prothean, Shepard mostly forgot about it.She never gave a thought about what it would mean for the only Porthean left in existence. To be fair, Javik never made a point to tell her either.





	It Wasn't a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> My sister and I had a conversation. It lead to us realizing that what is funny on the surface, is actually a little sad.

Shepard was not a soft woman. You couldn't be. Not with a job like this. Killing creatures, people, constructs on a daily basis. Not to mention strong arming entire nations and even planets into getting along. It didn't allow room for any softness.

However, she did care. You had to. With a job like this. Endless hours of combat, little down time and even less sleep. There's no way in hell she could find the drive if it wasn't for wanting a world, a life, for her crew. A better one, if she could swing it.

Chills had been running up and down her spine for a while now. Like the water rushing out before a tidal wave, she could sense the sickening haste of their time pulling away from them. It was spilling form between their fingers no matter how hard they tried to hold on. The towering wave of their doom growing ever higher, and it was about ready to crest and come crashing down over all of them.

Her solution? They were going to fucking party. A giant middle finger to fate and all that, that bitch had in store for them.

So, Shepard went out and spent an obscene amount of money on booze.

Azure pay-per-view, obscene.

Turian and Asari liquors, Ryncol, a specially distilled equivalent of vodka safe for Quarians, you name it. Flavors and colors spanning the full spectrum, including ultraviolet. If it were for anything less than the apocalypse, her penny-pinching-because-military-budgets-suck trained sensibilities would have stroked out over the sheer amount of digits each bill contained.  As it was, she took her sensibilities, trussed them up like a certain data-chip stealing pyjak, and spaced them; also, like said chip stealing pyjak.

It wasn't like she was going to live long enough need any of it any -

The stadium that Anderson called an apartment was stacked to the brim with cases of alcohol. God forbid someone light a match, the whole Citadel would be up in flames.

That almost happened anyway with the way the party went. Damn! She hadn't had that much fun since she and her entire flight class fucked off for a week after basic. Shepard woke up with a smile _still_ on her face.

Extracting herself from a warm tangle of limbs, she went to go check on everyone.

Thanks to the cybernetics, Shepard was counted alongside the biotics as one who woke without a hangover. Well, biotics, and Vega. Tequila probably ran through his veins given how much he drank last night and the way he was cheerfully flipping eggs over the stove.

Liara delicately holding her head was pretty hilarious, especially when one considered she ran half the underworld. Garrus and Cortez took their hangovers like the experts they probably were. Anyone having been in the military was used to the next day repercussions. Tali was just adorable. Shepard had to stop herself from laughing outright at the poor Quarian. There was no hang over like your first hangover.

Shepard hadn't really thought to check her own bathroom for any guests, not until she realized she was missing one.  All the grizzled old-timers were laughing at the youngsters, she'd left Joker and EDI to themselves, and had passed the ever composed Samara. However, she seemed to be short one die hard Prothean.

Baffled, she'd gone back to her room to freshen up a touch when she saw him in the middle of the floor, clutching his head.

Now, Shepard never gave a lot of thought to the beacon from Eden Prime, and what exactly it did to her. There was Chakwa's initial explanation that Shepard had glazed a little on. Then there were those couple of weeks Liara had wanted to dissect her brain. Other than the occasional pieces of ancient tech, or being shoved to the front line if there was even a whiff of eau de Reaper or Prothean, Shepard mostly forgot about it.

She never gave a thought about what it would mean for the only Porthean left in existence. To be fair, Javik never made a point to tell her either.

"How you doing Javik?" She asked, more amused than anything that he was sprawled across the tile. With how strict her impressions of the Protheans were, she wondered how long it had been since the General had been drunk. She would guess years before his last stand.

"I had a dream," he groaned. Even stationary on the ground, he was swaying a bit.

Oh really? This should be good.

Shepard knelt on the cool flooring, a smile playing on her lips.

"Fifty thousand years had passed. It was horrible. I was alone." Her smile began to fade.

"The primitives had evolved. They ruled the galaxy. Salarians, turians, and... the Asari." This, wasn't what she was expecting. Dancing elcor, maybe. Not this. This was personal.

Why was he telling her this? It was just a hangover. Even wounded and doped up on Chakwa's strongest pain killers he didn't ever talk about anything personal. Ever. There was the former "glory of the Empire" and "in my time" but nothing about him. That was when she noticed that all four of his eyes were closed.

"There was one. 'Liara.' She had these eyes. And, that voice. And she was _blue_. No, no... it was just a dream." It hit  Shepard all at once, the beacon.

From what little she had paid attention to the beacon had rearranged her brain into something it could interact with. The MRI scans had shown highlighted something-or-another's that apparently proved that. Shepard herself registered as Prothean, or something close to it, to all of the tech they encountered. She must 'feel' like a Prothean to Javik.

That was why he was telling her this, she felt like one of his own kind. He wouldn't lower himself to sharing something with a "primitive".

She never taken the whole 'primitive' thing personally, she figured it must be like waking up to monkeys spouting calculus and governing the world. Very classic Planet of the Apes, shit. It would be hard not to see yourself as superior because all your life it had been an animal. One known to throw tantrums and even fling its own shit when it was upset. How could you ever realistically see it as an equal, equal enough to share your feelings with.

She'd never given it any thought be-

Javik sniffed, turning his head slightly from side to side, trying to get a smell out his nostrils. "I smell primitives."

One by one his four eyes peeled open, blinking as they finally came to focus on Shepard. Another groan. "It was no dream."

Her heart broke a little for him then. She was not a soft woman, but she did care. It was hard enough being dead two years and coming back to people she'd once known, but had changed while she was gone. Even with that experience, she couldn't begin to imagine what it'd be like to wake up in a world where everything was gone. Food you loved, faces like yours, an entire way of life, everything.

In this very instant, she didn't see a Prothean, or Vengance, or even a crewmate with a terrible attitude and enough paranoia for the ship twice over. No, all she saw was a lost soul, millions of miles and thousands of years away from anything that looked like home. If growing up on Earth had taught her one thing, it was that it didn't matter how shitty, torn or broken it was, home was always home. And his was gone.

Shepard didn't know what to say to him.

So, she clapped a hand on his shoulder, and put every ounce of sympathy she had into the gesture. Maybe he would feel it, maybe he wouldn't.

"Make sure to grab some fluids. Avoid the hot tub though, huh? I heard Garrus mention something about acid." Then she left him to gather his composure in private, the door sliding shut on his mutterings.

Hours later, after she had some decent eggs and nursed poor Tali back to functionality, Javik managed to catch her alone. His four eyes were narrow yellow beams of death.

"If you tell anyone -" he hissed.

"You'll toss me out the airlock" She finished for him with a grin. "Though I don't know why'd you toss me out the airlock because I've no idea what you're talking about."

He hesitated a moment, his gaze flicking over her features.

"Well... good." He nodded sharply. Then he pivoted and stomped away.

Shepard made a mental note to oops and let some Cerberus troops find their way on board the Normandy. Not enough to endanger the crew, but enough to throw in the airlock. Watching him space something might be what the doctor ordered.

**Author's Note:**

> Insert Karin Chawas "I would order no such thing!"


End file.
